Sometimes the best way to deal with a crisis is to sit down, shut up, and force yourself to think things through.
Or, if you’re Alicia Florrick, to have your campaign staff and your vocal cords force you to do that. Three hours away from a big interview for her campaign, and with a voice that’s practically non-existent, Alicia spent most of “Mind’s Eye” talking to herself--or rather, having very vivid, yet very imaginary conversations (and more intimate interactions) with people in her head.
They weren’t all imaginary conversations. Several crises descend on Alicia as she tries to rest and prep for her interview: There’s the professional crisis (Louis Canning calls her with a threat to sue her law firm); the political one (reports start to surface that Alicia’s campaign is being funded by drug money); and the many, converging personal ones (abruptly reminded of Will, in an episode that mirrors one set inside the late Mr. Gardner’s head, Alicia frets over her romantic choices, her strained relationships with her children, and her faith, or lack thereof).
The problems spill over into each other, distracting Alicia from the impending interview and sending her on a very eclectically-scored city walkabout. (I have serious iTunes envy, though I do wonder how a lawyer-mother-political candidate has time to keep her music collection so up-to-date.)
And, though she spends most of the episode seemingly flailing and literally voiceless, Alicia finds some perspective back in a hospital, at the scene of a crisis greater than any of hers: Canning's apparently real deathbed. After years of fakeouts, her wiliest, most familiar nemesis appears to have succumbed to his illness--and his wife tells Alicia that she’s the only “friend” who’s bothered to visit him.
Is this really the end of Michael J. Fox’s ever-resilient, extraordinarily manipulative character? If so, he dies at a time when Alicia is becoming more and more like him--and finally willing to embrace that side of herself. She leaves the hospital and readies for her interview with new resolve: to lie about taking the drug money, and to believe that doing so makes her a better candidate than the so-honest Prady. To mentally move on from Will, apparently to Johnny. To forgive her son for lying about his girlfriend’s abortion.
It’s another few steps in Alicia’s journey towards the dark side, or at least the deep grey side. (It’s been a quietly bleak season of The Good Wife, which is turning out to be more House of Cards than West Wing or Parks & Recreation in its view of politics and those who choose to engage in it.)
At the end of the episode, having reached a new level of internal peace with her compromises, Alicia seems ready for her big, crucial interview. “Your voice sounds better,” she’s told, to which she replies: “I’m finding it.”